More Lemmings

August 17, 1996

by Rob Wojtasiewicz
In my last article on lemmish behavior I pointed out that lemmings do not, as popular myth suggests, rush madly over cliffs in a self-sacrificial orgy of eco-system balancing. Rather, they propagate over a several-year cycle which culminates in such great numbers that they are forced to migrate in search of food. Many lemmings will migrate in the same direction, however they do not act as a group or herd.

The similarity between lemmings and humans is amazing. Where the lemming will plunge blindly across a lake, fjord, or the whole goddamn ocean, the human will plunge blindly down the freeway, or through the forest, or halfway to the center of the goddamn earth, in a mad bid to satisfy that deep hunger that never seems to completely disappear.

What is the difference between human greed and lemmish hunger? It's only a matter of perspective. Where the lemming quests to fill its belly, the human quests to fill its ego. Where the lemming's imperative involves stomach enzymes that cause it to feel empty and in need of something to fill it, the imperative of human desire involves strange and esoteric cravings that cause the human to feel empty and in need of something to fill the void.

What is the food which the human ego so desperately craves? On what does this beast subsist? On such exotic substances as attention, and control, and of course the staple of human lemoscity, pleasure-gratification.

Humans will rush blindly across the face of the earth in pursuit of control. They will do anything for attention. They will throw themselves blindly into any emotional or social mire in pursuit of gratification. And though they do it in great numbers, in massive migratory pursuit of more fertile feeding grounds, ultimately they go alone.

Aloneness: the final frontier. These are the voyages of a theoretically intelligent species. It's quarter-million year mission seems a mystery. The prime directive appears to have gotten lost in a programming glitch. Something about seeking out new civilizations and grinding them into oblivion, if I remember correctly.

Winter is arrived. Lemmings will spend the next six months in burrows under the snow. They will eat frozen grass and try to avoid the predators that seem so good at finding them and digging them out.

Winter is arrived. Humans will continue to consume the land, the air, the water, and each other. They don't have to worry about natural enemies. Their only predator is the nasty beast called Time.

The question is, where will we migrate when we use up what we have?


Originally printed in The New Lemming Vol 1 Issue 2
©1996, 1997 Robert Wojtasiewicz

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